


Stay

by Fan_of_fiction_84



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-15 12:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18073700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan_of_fiction_84/pseuds/Fan_of_fiction_84





	1. Gone

Stiles is dead.

Derek pushes past the deputies in the hall and into the hospital room where the rest of the pack are already gathered. He came as quickly as he could, but he is already too late. He sees Scott and Isaac first. Scott is a mess of tears, sobs, and manic rantings. Isaac is holding the broken teen in a hug and whispering into his ear. Lydia is sitting in a chair in the corner of the room with her right hand clasped over her mouth. Her eyes are wide; she's in shock. Lydia hasn't even began crying yet. She just stares at the boy in the hospital bed. Sheriff Noah Stilinski is kneeling at his son's bedside, holding onto the boy's hand. Derek's heart starts skipping beats. He's overcome with dread and confusion.

When Scott sees Derek, he breaks free of Isaac's hug and rushes the alpha. He wraps his arms around Derek and mutters something unintelligible. Derek instinctively wraps one arm around his friend but keeps looking around the room with his mouth agape. His werewolf ears are inundated by the sounds of weeping, racing heartbeats, and hospital monitors. Scott tugs mindlessly at the back of Derek's grey shirt with shaky hands.

Deaton quietly reenters the room and places a hand on Derek's shoulder, "Derek," he whispers, "I'm glad you got here so quickly."

Angrily, Derek responds, "Not quickly enough."

Deaton closes his eyes thoughtfully and nods. He looks the alpha in the eye and soothes, "There isn't much time. I have to ask you to do something that you may not be comfortable with." He folds his hands together over his chest and shifts awkwardly. "Whoever did this was very powerful. The authorities are still counting casualties but have no leads. We need to know who was behind this heinous attack on the hospital."

Derek thinks he knows what Deaton is about to ask, and he doesn't like it. As an alpha, he has the ability to peer into a person's mind by forcing his claws into the back of a person's neck. It's a dangerous venture under normal circumstances but almost unheard of under these circumstances. "Deaton," he begins, "I-I can't... I..."

"The police have no leads. They don't know what they're looking for," Deaton intervenes, "At least two doctors are dead. A handful of nurses. A paramedic," his voice is even and calming but there is an expression of panic painted across his face, "and Stiles. Stiles may hold a clue. He may know who we are looking for." He trails off and looks at the boy in the bed. For all intents, the boy is already gone. He has rapidly diminishing brain activity, and his lungs are only sucking in air with the aid of medical equipment. Deaton figures they are within the final moments of the boy's life.

Scott pulls away from Derek but still clings on to his shirt. Through staggered breaths, he pleads, "Please Derek, you have to..." Deaton explained the procedure a few minutes before Derek arrived. "I need to know who did this! I'm going after them!" Isaac carefully approaches Scott and wraps his arms around him again. Scott breaks into another fit of sobs and gasps for breath.

Derek fights the urge to look away from Stiles' body on the bed. He's almost entirely unrecognizable. His face is twisted and swollen, discolored. Tubes are running from Stiles' mouth and nose while others are attached to his arms and fingers. The copper smell of blood is flooding the room. Derek's stomach churns at the sight. He feels his heart breaking. For three years he fought his feelings for the teen four years his junior. He actively worked to keep Stiles at arm's length and to keep his feelings hidden. He couldn't allow another person to get close enough to hurt him again. He also couldn't allow himself the distraction of a love interest with all the dangers in Beacon Hills. But now, Derek had to fight ten times as hard to keep his emotions hidden. "What..." he chokes on the words, "What does... Sheriff Stilinski think of your plan? He understands that this will probably be the final nail..." he stops himself, unable to finish the expression.

Noah stands up and looks to Derek, "I need this. Please Derek, I know we've had a troubled history..." the sheriff tries to put on a brave face but is breaking before his eyes.

Derek quickly moves forward and puts a hand on Noah's shoulder in a silent gesture to let the man know that whatever history they might have; it's water under the bridge. "I'll do it," he concedes, "I'll do it." Noah nods gratefully and fights back another flood of tears.

Deaton moves to the bedside and carefully places his hands on Stiles' head. "Quickly now," he says as he repositions the boy for easier access, "Derek, you'll have to be effecient. You won't have a lot of time and it's going to be difficult." He looks to the sheriff and lowers his voice, "The diminished brain activity may make it so that the images you see are..." he considers his words, "It may not be lucid thought. Push through it. Try to see his last memories."

Derek steps forward and takes a deep breath. He extends the claws of his right hand and carefully places them on the back of Stiles' neck. He looks Deaton in the eye one last time before plunging himself into Stiles' mind. Everything goes dark. A chill descends over the alpha. It takes a few seconds for Derek to center himself. He looks around but all he sees is darkness. He steps forward. Darkness. "Am I too late?" he asks himself. He walks forward until he finally stumbles across a single string of red yarn. The yarn seems to float in midair. Derek can't see where the yarn begins but decides to follow it. He delicately places his fingers on the yarn and follows it until a blurry image opens before him.

"Don't you know who that is?" Stiles asks. The voice seems so far away. Derek strains to listen as he moves forward. "That's Derek Hale..." Stiles explains. Derek finds himself in the woods not far from the Hale House. He realizes this was three years ago; the day he first laid eyes on Stiles and Scott. Derek walks over the crunching leaves until he is standing between a younger version of himself and the boys. He has to duck as the other Derek tosses an asthma inhaler to Scott. This is the wrong memory and the meeting makes Derek uncomfortable, he decides to keep moving. Still holding the red yarn, Derek goes forward.

The wooded area turns to a school hallway. The yarn leads Derek to see himself as he slams Stiles against a locker. The memory isn't as Derek remembers it. Things move slowly here and without sound. Derek suddenly feels his chest tighten. Derek hates this memory because he hates that he spent so much time being cruel and standoffish to Stiles who now only has minutes left to live. The memory freezes. Derek's face is an inch away from Stiles. Derek doesn't know why the memory suddenly froze like this, but chalks it up to Stiles' brain damage. He follows the yarn away from this place and into the next memory.

The walls of the school contort into the walls of Deaton's veterinarian clinic. Another Derek is writhing in pain on the floor, shirtless. Scott is looking for a bullet that was lost in a vent in the floor. Stiles is trying to assist the other Derek. Derek pauses here. His own memory of this day is blurry at best. The poison that was coarsing through him caused him to pass out. The memory Derek passes out just as Derek remembered. Stiles slaps him in the face, trying desperately to keep him alive. Scott is completely turned away in his efforts to recover the bullet. Stiles looks down at Derek, over to Scott, and then back down at memory Derek, "Screw it. It might work and I might never have a chance to do this again," Stiles grumbles. He grasps Derek's face in both hands and moves in for a kiss. The kiss is quick but sincere. He hopes it will wake the poisoned wolf, maybe even heal him. But this is no fairytale and the wolf remains unconscious. Derek's heart jumps. Was Stiles gay? Did Stiles have feelings for him? Derek continues to watch the memory unfold. Stiles wipes a tear away from his delicate face and tries another kiss; this one a little slower and just as sincere. Stiles then whispers into the wolf's ear, "Come back to me, Sourwolf." Derek grips the yarn tight as he feels his eyes swell with tears. He can't stay here in this memory, as much as he wants to. He has to find the face of whoever attacked him in the hospital.

He's in Stiles' room. He sees the teen sitting at a desk and writing in a leatherbound journal. Derek knows he shouldn't, but he looks over Stiles' shoulder and reads what the boy is writing. Stiles' hand moves quickly across the page, "Derek keeps pushing me away. I don't understand it. Does he know I'm attacted to him? Is that why he hates me? Oh God! I shouldn't stare at him so much. It's his own fault. He shouldn't wear those t-shirts so tight, or that sexy leather jacket, or that scruff if he doesn't want eyes on him. Sometimes I find myself jealous how easily Scott gets along with Derek. Maybe I should start working out..." Stiles closes the journal and turns off the desk lamp. The memory concludes on its own and Derek pushes on to the next.

The pool. Derek remembers this night well. He was immobilized by Jackson's kanima toxin. Stiles held Derek in the water for hours as Jackson circled the pool. Stiles' arm wrapped around Derek's body as the frail boy worked diligently to keep the wolf above water. How many times did he owe his life to Stiles? Derek was supposed to be the alpha, the hero, the strong one. But it was Stiles who was the brave one. Derek watches the two figures in the pool. "I'm so sorry I failed you..." Before Derek can do anything, the walls around the pool begin to fade. Derek looks around, confused. Jackson fades entirely. The pool seems to shrink. Details disappear. "Oh no," Derek whispers to himself, "The brain damage..." He runs forward.

Finally, Derek finds himself in the hospital in today's horrible memory. The walls are blurry. Details are still missing. Sounds around him are muffled. Derek looks around at the dark hospital corridors. The elevator door slides open and Scott's mother, Nurse Melissa McCall bursts out. She's running as fast as she can, blood spattered across her blue hospital scrubs. Derek's eyes widen as he watches her disappear through a door just before the stairwell door opens and a tall man in a mask slowly steps through it. The man is wearing coveralls and a white mask. He walks stiffly, slowly, menacingly, in the direction that Melissa just went. Derek looks around for Stiles. The masked man is just about to reach for the door Melissa passed through when Stiles bursts from behind a vending machine. He pushes the machine down onto the man. The figure falls to the floor under the machine but brushes it off effortlessly. Stiles jumps onto the man's chest and sinks a syringe into the man's neck. The contents of the syringe seem to have no effect as the man grabs Stiles by the throat and lifts him off the ground. In a single, swift movement the man is on his feet and Stiles is dangling in the air. Derek releases a low growl. The masked man turns slowly and smashes Stiles face against the wall, then does it again, and again, and again... Derek closes his eyes but can't stop from hearing as Stiles' skull cracks and the boy cries softly. Derek opens his eyes, which are now bright red. The masked figure drops Stiles to the ground and turns to continue his pursuit of Melissa McCall but Stiles foolishly grabs the man by the boot. "Stiles... no..." whispers Derek. The masked man looks down at the boy, covered in blood and barely moving. With his free foot, he stamps down on Stiles' ribcage. Stiles goes limp. The figure leaves through the same door Melissa did and the memory goes blank as Stiles passes out.

Derek expected to wake up, to be back in his own head. But he is still in Stiles' mind. Everything is white and foggy. Perfect silence surrounds him; something he has not experienced before. His keen werewolf hearing can always hear sounds of some sort. Crickets a mile away. The breeze passing through trees. The heartbeats of people not even within line of sight. But now; nothing. He spins around, "Stiles?"

"Derek? What are you doing here?" Stiles' soft voice replies.

"Stiles... Where are you?" Derek asks.

Stiles steps forward from out of the fog. He's beautiful. His milky white skin is unblemished. Cute little moles line the side of his face. He smiles warmly at the wolf. Derek examines him. He's wearing a red hoodie, khakis, and a pair of crisp and clean Converse sneakers. He's a picture of a healthy teenaged boy without any worries in the world. Derek smiles at him, knowing this will be his last chance to talk to him. "Stiles..." he can't stop the tears from flowing.

Stiles gives an animated headshake and steps closer to Derek, "What's wrong? Dude, are you crying? I've never seen you..."

"Shut up Stiles," Derek grimaces. He wraps his arms around his friend and buries his face in Stiles' shoulder.

Stiles is genuinely confused, "Dude..." he trails off as he cautiously returns the hug. He can't help but elate at the fact that old sourwolf has him embraced like this. He doesn't know why, but he'll take it. He has never experienced this kind of affirmation from Derek. He feels Derek's massive muscles pressed against him. He smiles. A dream come true! Is this a dream?

"I'm sorry," Derek mutters into Stiles' shoulder, not releasing him from the hug, "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for what? Dude, you are starting to freak me out!"

Derek grasps Stiles by the shoulders and looks him in the eyes, "I'm sorry for so much. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I'm sorry I never told you how I felt about you. I'm sorry..." he chokes up. His knees feel weak. He doesn't think he can keep standing on his own.

Stiles is starting to cry now too, "What do you mean, how you feel about me?"

The air around them shudders. Whatever ground they are standing on shakes. Stiles is slipping away...

"I... I have trouble..." Derek struggles, "I have trouble letting people know when I care about them."

Stiles smiles through tears, "You care about me?"

Derek hates himself for waiting until, literally, the last minute to tell him this, "Yes I do."

"Like care about me like you care about Scott? Or care about me like..." Stiles cocks an eyebrow and smiles crookedly, "Are you attracted to me?" His stomach knots as the words pass through his lips. He is dreaming. He knows this is too good to be true. Even if Derek liked dudes, he wouldn't like Stiles. "I'm confused."

"I need more time," Derek huffs.

Stiles feels a strange sensation. More time. There isn't enough time. His thoughts jumble. It's getting hard to think in linear thought. "Derek? What's happening?"

Derek sees Stiles' face change. He begins looking more like the ragged body of a broken boy on the hospital bed. Blood trickles down Stiles' lip. Derek hugs him again as if he can shelter Stiles from what is happening. He wishes he could take Stiles' fate and give Stiles more time to live. His chest is bursting with pain. "I need you to know that I have always had feelings for you. When I first started getting to know you, I knew I was in trouble. You consumed my thoughts."

Stiles can hear Derek's words and understands most of them but language is slowly beginning to lose meaning. The brain damage is just too severe. He knows he loves Derek, and it's becoming apparent that Derek might feel the same way. Somehow, Stiles realizes this isn't a dream. It's real, but there is a tragic finality in the way Derek is holding him. He tries to speak but words are becoming too difficult. He can't annunciate. "Der-ack. I'm scare... I'm scare... I'm scurred," he babbles.

It's too much for Derek to handle. "Sshhh," he hushes, "Just stay with me. Stay with me," he pleads. He holds the boy against him. Stiles presses his face into Derek's mighty chest and clings desperately to his shirt. Derek just keeps repeating, "Stay. Stay. Please Stiles, stay with me."

Derek wakes up on the floor. The first thing he hears as he starts to come to is the constant beep of a heart rate monitor; a flatline. Then the voices creep into his ears. "Did you see him?" asks Scott. "Who attacked him?" asks Isaac. "Are you okay?" Lydia asks. Derek focuses. He looks past the three teens trying to help him off the floor. Noah Stilinski is hunched over the body of his son. Derek's jaw drops open but words are lost. He is still disoriented from the experience. He looks around. Deaton locks eyes on the startled alpha and somehow he knows. Deaton knows that Derek didn't just see Stiles' memories; he spoke to him. Derek looks down at Stiles laying in the bed, Noah wrapped around him. The room is spinning. Scents, sounds, colors all rush Derek's mind as his werewolf senses reactivate. His mind focuses on revenge. He will find Stiles' attacker and he will tear him to shreds. Derek decides to only allow himself to think of revenge because the alternative is thinking about the simple and inescapable truth...

Stiles is dead.


	2. Rage

It takes Derek a moment to collect himself. All eyes but the sheriff's are on him. He doesn't allow anyone to see how shook up he is. Derek gives himself a shake and adjusts his leather jacket, "Scott, Isaac; you're with me," he motions to the door. Scott flashes a look of anticipation at the man he won't allow to be his alpha and Derek realizes that he wants answers. "It looked like a normal human, but he was stronger than a normal human. I couldn't tell exactly. He was wearing a Halloween mask. He was after your mother..." Derek pauses to allow that information to sink into Scott. "Stiles sacrificed himself to buy your mother time to escape. He..." if he isn't careful, Derek might get choked up, "He was brave to the end."

Sheriff Stilinski turns and peers through squinted eyes at the wolf pack, "Give him hell," he grunts.

Deaton follows the pack into the hallway. There is so much going on that nobody is even paying attention to the flatline happening in Stiles' room. State marshals have been brought in to assist the deputies. There are more uniformed men armed with guns arriving by the minute. The hospital has all surviving hands on deck but they are still desperately short staffed. "I have a bad feeling about this," Deaton says to Derek, "It's the day before Halloween and the supernatural is stronger than usual."

Derek growls, "So am I," he look at Isaac and Scott before correcting himself, "So are we."

"Just the same," Deaton continues, "Use caution. Work in tandem. I don't want to lose anymore people I care about tonight."

Scott is eager to find his mother. He sniffs the air for her scent. His neck snaps around and he glares in the direction he believes Melissa McCall fled. Without word from Derek, Scott flies down the hall and Isaac follows suit. Derek watches the teens as they take off; he's interested in a different scent. If there is a chance that the killer dropped his pursuit of Melissa and went in a different direction, he doesn't want to waste time. Deaton places a hand on Derek's arm, "We'll talk when you get back." But Derek doesn't want Deaton's support. He doesn't want to talk. He wants to kill. To maim. Derek wants revenge. His nostrils flare as he catches the scent. Without any acknowledgement of Deaton's kindness, Derek runs in the same direction Scott led Isaac.

The three wolves run past the the front lobby, past a nurses station, and into the front parking lot of Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. Scott scans the lot for his mother's car and sees it immediately despite the bright flashes of red and blue light. Scott leaps over the hood of a police cruiser and bolts to his mother's car. His heart drops when he finds the car empty and the tires slashed. His eyes dart to Derek.

"I don't smell blood out here," Derek states flatly, "Not fresh blood anyway. She must have gone on foot."

The pack continues their hunt. It would be exhilarating under different circumstances. The wolves feed off each others' energy and they run faster, see farther, smell better than they ever have before. This adrenaline is the only thing keeping Derek from completely losing his cool composure. Scott is running on fear; he is too afraid of what may happen to his mother to continue grieving his best friend. The wolves howl as they make their way through neighborhood after neighborhood. Scott hopes that his mother will hear the call and be reassured that he's on his way.

Most of the houses lining the streets are masked in darkness. The lights are off for the night and tall trees block the light from the street lamps. An unusual late-season fog gives the streets an uneasy feeling. Something just doesn't seem right. It's too much like a horror movie, Isaac thinks to himself. The scent of the killer is lost in the damp air, masked by too many woodland animals and wood stoves. But the scent of Melissa McCall actually grows stronger. At least Scott's mother is nearby, Derek thinks to himself as he jumps over a tall bush and onto someone's front yard. Derek motions the boys to stop; to be quiet. The three crouch low to the ground and use their superior instincts. Frantic heartbeats are coming from inside the house. Derek counts them, "One... two... three." He's positive that he knows how many people are inside as he moves up the walkway.

Scott can't take it anymore and beats on the door, screaming, "Mom! Mom! Are you alright?"

The door flies open and Coach Finstock answers with a lacrosse racket in hand, "McCall? What the hell are you doing outside at a time like this?"

Melissa charges the door and throws her arms around her son, "Oh Scott! Oh thank God! Are you alright?"

Derek peers through the entryway but doesn't step inside. He looks to the coach, "How many people are inside?"

The couch is taken back by the sudden quiz, "Uh, just me pal. And McCall's mother here..." he doesn't speak like most people, everything is a half shout. "I was just in here watching Jeopardy and thinking to myself how dumb Greenberg is when I hear her screaming to the high heavens outside!"

Isaac turns to face Derek, "I hear a third heartbeat too."

"What?!" shouts the couch.

Derek pushes his way inside. He is focused. The heartbeat is coming from upstairs. He can also hear harsh breathing; like a kid wearing a mask but the airholes are too small. The killer is inside. He followed Melissa McCall all the way across four neighborhoods and into Coach Finstock's home. "Get out," orders Derek, "Get back to the hospital. The marshals are there and the entire Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department."

Melissa looks around in sheer terror, "Is he here?"

Scott answers by fully wolfing out. His fangs protrude from his mouth and the hair on the side of his face grows more than an inch. Coach Finstock completely ignores Scott's transformation and follows Derek's command to leave. Lacrosse racket in one hand, Melissa's arm in the other, Finstock makes his way for his car at the end of the drive.

Derek feels his body pulsate with power he has never before possessed. His hands snap, and crackle as they double in size. His claws now more like daggers as he makes his way to the bottom of the stairs. To his surprise, the breathing and heartbeat upstairs stays even and doesn't elevate; even when he howls with all the force his lungs can muster. Isaac is in awe at Derek's transformation... he realizes that Derek must secretly have had stronger feelings for Stiles than he let on (much the way he keeps his own feelings for Scott a secret). Derek is about to make his way up the stairs when the figure calmly steps out of the shadows and into Derek's view. He looks exactly as Stiles remembered him.

"This is for Stiles!" Derek screams as emotion overtakes him! He dashes up the stairs at lightning speed. He throws himself at the shape and tries to drive his claws into the figure's chest. The shape is dense, physically. It's like trying to stab at wet concrete that has nearly solidified. Derek changes tactics, mid-attack, and grabs the shape and throws him down the stairs. Before the masked man even hits the floor, Scott and Isaac pounce! Scott savagely tearsaway at the man's arms. Isaac sinks his claws into the sides of the man's face.

Undaunted, the masked serial killer swings a kitchen knife at the boys. When the wolves move away to avoid the knife; the figure sits up. His black eyes look up at Derek at the top of the stairs. He has an almost child-like curiousity about Derek. Scott unleashes a deep growl as he opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into attacker's neck. Any other living thing would be dead almost immediately as Scott nailed the jugular. But this unknown assailant seems hardly phased. Scott's mouth fills with the taste of rotten meat and tar. The shape jabs the knife up at Scott and catches him on the side of the face. Scott releases his hold on the man and howls in pain. Isaac furiously kicks the shape and moves to protect Scott.

Derek is back at the bottom of the stairs now and throws all his weight on the man he now suspects is more supernatural than himself. With both hands, Derek grabs the shape's arm that weilds the knife. It takes all of Derek's strength but he bends the arms until it snaps with a deeply satisfying crunch. The figure continues to fight back. He punches Derek in the exposed sternum so hard that Derek hears a second, and far less satisfying crunch.

Scott and Isaac leap back into action. They pin down the shape's free hand and start biting into it until they feel the flesh fall from the bone. The pack is enraged now. They are all fury; totally devoid of strategy or reason. All Derek can see is Stiles standing at the end of a hallway; waiting for him. Stiles' lips move but there is no sound. The only sound Derek hears is the chewing and growling he and his pack are making as they dismantle Stiles' killer.

What feels like hours finally comes to an end. In reality, the dismemberment took only thirty minutes. Derek, Isaac, and Scott are covered in black goo that has no semblance to human blood. Scott immediately regrets crossing a line and giving in to his wolf. Isaac feels liberated. Derek feels... nothing. His anger has finally subsided. Stiles is avenged. But he has no closure. No satisfaction. The grisley mess before him still seems too good for the man who so carelessly took so many lives at the hospital... who took Stiles' life.

"What... do we do... now?" huffs Scott as he wipes the black sludge away from his mouth and chin.

Isaac kneels back down, "Oh my God," he mutters, "Is it just me or can you still hear... a faint heartbeat?"

Derek can hear it too. "Scott," he says dryly, "find a box or something you can transport the head in. Isaac, takes a few limbs and bury them in cement at the construction site by the high school. Bury them as far apart as you can."

Scott's eyes widen with fear, "He can't still be?"

Derek shakes his head, "Take the head to Deaton. He might know what exactly this thing is. I don't know."

Isaac asks, "What are you going to do?"

"I'll take the torso and bury it in every mystical herb and flower I have back at the house. Wolfsbane. Vervain. Nightshade. Whatever it takes." Derek can't shake the image of Stiles from his head. He can feel his chest about to burst with sorrow and self hate. He hadn't been this wrought with grief since his family. Since the Argents set fire to his home. "Move quickly. We don't know if he can pull himself together or respawn, grow new limbs... or what."

Scott can hear Derek's voice shake but he doesn't know if it's fear, mourning, or exhaustion from the dismemberment they just committed. He decides it best not to say anything. He spots the coach's gym bag next to the kitchen door and picks up the head with it. "Meet back up at the hospital?"

"Yes," replies Isaac.

"Yeah," lies Derek, "There are just a few things I have to do first." He has mastered controlling his heart rate so neither Scott nor Isaac detect the lie he just told. There is no chance of him returning to that hospital. He couldn't bare to see Stiles again; not like that. And he couldn't look Sheriff Stilinski in the face again either. After he buries the torso, Derek plans to leave Beacon Hills. For how long, he doesn't know. Maybe forever. He watches Scott and Isaac do as they are told. His mind races with escape plans. Anywhere is better than here right now. There's just one thing he needs before he leaves.

After the torso is buried in a sack full of powerful herbs and mountain ash, Derek climbs into his black Camero. He ignores the texts from Scott, Lydia, and Isaac. He drives to the Stilinski house. Nobody is home yet. Derek lets his guard down and he finally allows himself to cry. Once it starts, there is no holding back the emotion. He walks to the side of the house and glances up at the open window he knows is... was... Stiles' room. Derek jumps up the side of the house and climbs into the room. He staggers to the bed, losing control of his muscular legs. He collapses onto the bed. The scent of Stiles is everywhere. Derek closes his eyes and tries to permanently add the smell to memory. He'll never see or hear, or smell the boy again. Derek sits up on the bed and looks around at the room which now holds a strange and bitter irony. Taunting Derek are symbols of the life Stiles was robbed of. On the wall, a calendar with scribbles of places and things Stiles planned to do. Hanging on the back of the closet door was a suit that Stiles planned to wear to winter formal next month. Derek sees open books and unfinished homework that would have been passed in on Monday... if he lived. Derek falls off the bed as tears pour down his face. He struggles to breath. The mighty alpha now looks and feels like broken man he has become. He clenches his eyes shut and tries to compose himself.

"That's my cousin... Miguel," Derek replays Stiles' voice in his head. He almost crack a smile at the memory. Derek moves to the computer desk where Stiles and Danny sat that day. He sees the leather-bound journal that Stiles was writing in in his memory. The journal where Stiles wrote how he felt about Derek... Derek picks it up and pulls back the leather lace that holds it shut. He flips through the pages, feeling each one against his thumb until he stops randomly at a page and begins to read it aloud, "Here I am again! Alone! Scott is out with Allison. Lydia is with Jackson. Derek is doing God-knows-what with his pack. I feel so alone. I'm almost tempted to call Danny and talk to him. Maybe he can help me sort out this business with Derek. I don't remember ever being attracted to another guy before. Maybe this is a phase? Maybe it's some sort of wolf pheromones? Whatever the hell it is, it's not fair! I can't even sleep without dreaming about him anymore. Why do I want to run my fingers through that wolfy hair? Maybe I should call him..." Derek reads through his sobs. He puts the journal back down and goes to the window.

It's too painful to remember Stiles. Derek decides he has to do something extreme. A friend told him about a witch on the other side of the country, in Mystic Falls who can make people forget things. Forget people. Derek has to get to Mystic Falls and wipe the man he loved from his memory. It was the only way he would ever find peace. He takes one last deep inhale of the scent, and he's gone as if he was never there.


	3. Mystic

Derek steps off the small single engine plane in the early dawn. He didn't say good bye to anybody, didn't let them know he was leaving town. Normally, Derek would never abandon his pack like this but he wasn't thinking clearly. He was heartbroken, desperate, and exhausted. He hadn't slept in more than twenty-four hours. He rubbed his eyes which were covered in dark rings. His phone vibrated in the pocket of his jacket again. Derek considers answering it; just to let Beacon Hills know that he is alive and well. He decides against it. He walks across the tarmac while silently weighing options; should he get a room and rest for a few hours or go straight to his witch hunt. "Bonnie Bennett," he mutters to himself while scratching the dark scruff along his chiseled jawline.

"Derek?" a familiar voice from the past asks. A handsome man waits by the gate of the small town airport with a half grin etched on his olive skinned face. "Did you get any sleep at all?" He opens his arms for a hug and takes a few steps towards Derek.

"Tyler, you didn't have to meet me at the airport," Derek speaks loudly enough so that he is heard over the engine of another plane preparing for take off.

"Don't man," corrects Tyler, "Of course I had to come greet you. And you know," he hesitates, "And to offer my condolences." He wraps his arms around Derek and squeezes tightly.

Derek smells something strange in his friend. It has been years since he last saw Tyler Lockwood in person. He's different... too different. It's off-putting. "Thank you. I appreciate it," Derek says as he attempts to identify the scent emanating from Tyler.

Tyler also senses something about Derek that he wasn't able to the last time they met. He knows what it is. Derek is a werewolf. When Tyler last saw Derek, Derek was in high school and playing high school nationals in lacrosse. They briefly had a romance and Derek told Tyler about his wolfdom. It was all such a whirlwind and happened so quickly that Tyler sometimes feels like it happened to someone else. As quickly as their romance began; it ended. They shared a mutual attraction but little else. They agreed that they made better friends than boyfriends. They stayed in touch in the intervening years. But for whatever reason Tyler decided not to tell Derek about his own becoming a werewolf and ultimately a werewolf/vampire hybrid. Maybe it was the difference in nature of their transformations. Derek was a wolf by blood as many in his family were. Tyler became a wolf as a result of a curse that depending on Tyler taking a life. Tyler carried a lot of shame with his 'status'. "So Bonnie is definitely sleeping at this hour. So why don't you come back to my place and get a few hours of sleep? I'll introduce you this afternoon."

"Your place?" Derek falters, "Um..."

Tyler smirks confidently, "I have a few bedrooms Derek. I'm not asking you to do anything inappropriate. I know what you are going through."

Derek shrugs, "A few hours of sleep does sound good."

"Good," Tyler affirms, "It's nice to see you again." Tyler's heart flutters and he prays that Derek didn't hear that.

Of course Derek heard Tyler's heart. He maintains his steely expression out of respect and pretends to have not noticed. He still can't quite figure out what's different about Tyler but it has his defences up. "It's good to see you again too."

 

Derek awakes a few hours later to the sound of voices unknown to him. He sits up in the bed and strains his ears to listen. There is a lot of talk of vampires, immortality, and loyalty to Klaus. "Klaus?" Derek thinks to himself. There's the sound of glass breaking and air rushing about. Then the voices are gone. Everything is silent for a moment before Tyler starts walking up the stairs to Derek's room. Derek hurriedly put on his grey henley and hops out of the bed.

Tyler knocks softly before opening the door, "Did you hear any of that?"

Derek grunts in affirmation.

"Mystic Falls is a lot different than the place you left behind," Tyler warns, "I think it would be best if you leave as soon as you get what you want from Bonnie."

Derek is surprised at the sudden change in Tyler's demeanor. Tyler seems stressed and possibly scared. "Do you need help?" asks Derek sternly.

Tyler almost laughs at the suggestion, "That's sweet of you to offer but that kind of optimism would get you killed in Mystic Falls." He flinches when he realizes that he just brought up murder to a guy that just lost his boyfriend. "I'm sorry..." he begins.

Derek stoically shrugs it off, "My offer stands if you change your mind. Mystic Falls isn't the only thing that has changed since I left." He flashes his red eyes for emphasis.

Tyler fantasizes how easy life would be if all it took to fix things was one wolf with a sense of justice. But he knows that no matter how strong Derek has become, Mystic Falls and Klaus are too dangerous to mess with. He needs to get Derek out of town as soon as possible for both their safety. "Let's get you to Bonnie. She's meeting Jeremy at the Grill. I gave her a heads up and she's ready to cast whatever spell you need to forget... um... your boyfriend."

"Stiles was not my boyfriend," Derek states defensively.

"Oh? I thought," stammers Tyler confusedly.

"I love him," Derek says flatly as his chest tightens, "And I didn't know until after he died... that he loved me too. Or at least he was interested..."

Tyler's eyes widen with sympathy and he remembers how much he also cared for Derek in another lifetime. He forgets the danger that is looming over them and he takes a moment to embrace his friend in a sincere hug. Tyler sheds a single tear for his friend and the love he lost. He can't help but think of Vicki Donovan; the girl he lost a couple of years ago. He understands all the things left unsaid. How you would give anything, do anything to have just one more exchange with the person you lost. One more kiss.

"Let's move," Derek grunts as he retracts from the hug that has gone on just a little too long.

 

Twenty minutes later the men are walking into the Mystic Grill together. The smell of rot hits Derek in the face. Derek cocks an eyebrow and looks around. The restaurant is clean and everyone looks healthy. But he can't shake the smell of decay. He could swear a human corpse was in the room, "What is that... smell?" asks Derek who doesn't actually expect an answer from Tyler.

"Vampires," he answers under his breath, knowing Derek will hear clearly. "Don't piss them off." He motions to the figure sitting at the bar, drinking scotch at three in the afternoon.

As if on cue, the figure turns and smiles at the two who just walked in. Derek is instantly drawn to the vampire's blue eyes. The man stands casually and saunters over to the new face in town, "Well," he says snidely, "Tyler got himself a new friend." He looks at Tyler and smiles sinisterly before shifting his gaze back at Derek, "What do you drink?"

"I'm not thirsty," Derek growls.

The vampire chuckles in delight, "Oh Tyler found himself a feisty one!" He squints and compels the wolf to join him at the bar, "Have a seat. Tell me about yourself."

As Derek complies, Tyler stays behind. He knows what Damon Salvatore is doing. He also knows that Damon is in a mood. Trying to interfere may force Damon's hand and he might kill Derek just to make a point. Tyler is stronger now than he has ever been, and he could put up a fight. But there are too many people in the restaurant, too many factors. He'll keep a close eye on Damon but let this play out until he's positive he has to spring into action.

Damon and Derek sit at the bar together and Damon taps his empty glass with the large gawdy ring on his right hand. He looks at the hulking stranger sitting next to him and smiles again, his brow perking up, "So what is your name and what are your intentions with our boy Tyler?"

Derek's face is totally emotionless. He's never actually come face to face with a vampire before and he's not impressed. Thankfully, being an alpha makes him immune to Damon's compulsion; but he plays along. "I'm Derek and Tyler is a friend."

Damon watches as the blonde waiter fills the glass. The waiter gives Derek a worried look before walking to the far end of the bar and taking an order from another patron. Damon sips the drink and nods, "Why are you in Mystic Falls, Derek?" he stresses the name sarcastically.

"Tyler wanted to introduce me to some of his friends," Derek deliberately answers as vaguely as he can. He doesn't need vampires following him back to Beacon Hills. 

Damon shows his exasperation, "Which friends, Derek?" He swigs down the last of the drink and slams the empty glass down hard on the bar.

He pauses, unsure how much to reveal. He can see Tyler's flushed expression. "Listen, I just want to get my business done and get home."

Damon smirks and just oozes with evil. His piercing blue eyes stab at Derek like knives. "Derek, Derek, Derek... I feel you are being elusive with me. And that hurts my feelings." In a flash, Damon reaches over the bar, grabs a fork, and attempts to stab it into the back of Derek's hand. But Derek is nearly as fast as Damon and has the element of surprise. He moves his hand and grabs Damon by the wrist when the fork hits the bartop. Damon smiles and even releases a plesant chuckle, "Well aren't you just full of surprises?"

Derek growls a warning to Damon but releases him.

"Barkeep," Damon calls to the bartender, "I'm going to need a refill." The smile finally leaves his face and he looks at Derek with nothing but contempt. "So who the hell are you and what are you doing in my town?"

Derek sighs loudly, frustrated with his first dealing with a vampire. "I'm here to see a witch," he confesses.

"Bonnie? You're here to see Bonnie?" Damon nods approvingly, "What do you want with our resident witch?"

Derek never takes his eyes off Damon, afraid the vampire might try another trick, "I need to forget something painful."

Damon snorts out a burst of laughter, "If all you need is to forget a memory, I can help you with that."

Derek shifts his gaze to Tyler who shakes his head. He looks back at Damon, "Thanks, but I'd prefer to see the witch; Bonnie."

The waiter comes back to the men and gives the near empty bottle a swirl, "I got enough for one more, Damon."

Damon pushes his glass forward with the tips of his fingers and takes a breath, "Well Derek, that's hurtful. But I'll look the other way this time since you are a guest in oir cozy little hamlet. But I need to know, what is so painful a memory that you want a witch to wipe it out? Did you not get that pony for Christmas?" Damon speaks with all the sarcasm and ego of anyone Derek has ever met (and then some), "Or did you not get asked to prom by that special someone?" When Damon sees a tiny twitch in Derek's face at the mention of a prom date, he knows Derek is here about a lost love interest. "So who was she?" Damon bites his bottom lip in anticipation of Derek's answer.

Derek tenses up at the word, "her".

Damon's eyes widen with surprise, "Oh, I get it now. Let me get this straight, or," Damon pauses for dramatic effect, "gay if you prefer." He sneers malevolently.

Derek growls another warning.

Damon raises his open hands in a sign of surrender, "Hey, no judgements here friend," Damon leans forward and lowers his voice, "I lived through the dirty '30s and the summer of love. I've dabbled in the dude pool. I'm the fun Salvatore brother." Instead of taking another drink, he pushes it towards Derek and asks the question, "What was his name?"

Before Derek can answer, Tyler approaches the bar with two other people. "Derek," Tyler interjects, "This is my friend Jeremy, and this is Bonnie."

Bonnie extends a hand, "Hello Derek. I'm sorry for your loss." Jeremy shuffles uncomfortably behind her. Bonnie nods at Damon, "Hey, there's a really great table that just opened over there by the fireplace."

Damon rolls his eyes, "I get it," he reaches over the bar and grabs the first bottle that his hand caresses, "I'm leaving." He winks at Derek, "I'm recently in the market for a new drinking buddy... in case you have a change of heart after you get the voodoo treatment."

When Damon sits on the other side of the restaurant, Bonnie begins, "I need his name and a picture of him." Jeremy folds his arms over his chest and keeps standing behind Bonnie as she takes Damon's abandoned stool. "If you're sure you want to go through with this. I mean, there are other options. I could perform a spell that numbs your pain. Then you could at least remember him."

Derek pulls out his phone and opens the picture folder, "His name is... was Stiles. And I don't want to remember him. Numbing this pain isn't going to be enough." He finds a candid picture of Stiles that he took one day when Stiles didn't know Derek was taking a picture. He had that ridiculously goofy smile that always gave Derek a warm sensation in his chest. Derek hands the phone to Bonnie, "Please help me."

Bonnie smiles at the picture, "He was very handsome." She traces his face with her finger. She sympathizes with Derek but disagrees with his decision. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a crystal to hand to Derek, "Hold this in your hands," instructs the intrepid young witch, "You're going to close your eyes and picture Stiles in your mind. Stiles and nothing else."

Derek takes the crystal and does as he is instructed. He pictures Stiles as he was in that picture. It was a bright sunny afternoon. Stiles was standing on Scott's porch with Allison, Lydia, Scott, and Melissa. Stiles was telling some elaborate account of a sci fi movie he saw on television and how it was exactly like their lives. Everyone was laughing. Derek was walking across the lawn to join them but was awestruck at the sight of Stiles. Shadows of leaves danced across his face from a nearby tree. He was so animated. So full of energy. Derek just wanted to reach out and take his hand; to pull him in for a kiss. He should have just pulled him in for a kiss.

Bonnie breaks Derek's concentration, "Derek!" she snaps, "How did he die?" She's agitated.

Derek is startled. He opens his eyes and looks at the witch. Her eyes are wide and her pulse is erratic. Derek looks to Jeremy; he's tensed up as well. Even Damon stands up on the other side of the restaurant at Bonnie's sudden outburst. "His skull was crushed," answers Derek.

Bonnie shakes her head and takes the crystal from Derek's hands. "That's not how he died!"

The air is sucked out of his lungs. Derek thinks. The attack is what killed Stiles, but Stiles didn't die during the attack. He died later, in bed. Hooked up to machines. He died with Derek's claws in the back of his neck. Derek realizes that must be what Bonnie means, "He died after the attack. Um..." he inspects Bonnie's expression, "I was in his head... I was trying to find out who attacked him..." Derek's emotions are high, "I thought I was helping..."

Bonnie hands the crystal back to him, "Derek... I can't make you forget Stiles," Bonnie rests her hands on Derek's shaking form, "Derek you need to understand this. Whatever you did... Stiles is bonded to you. You are carrying his soul. And..." Bonnie looks up at Jeremy and then back at Derek with added emphasis, "I think I can bring him back."


	4. Hope

"What do you mean you can bring him back?" Derek's voice is small, barely audible. It's the most hope he has had in 24 hours. His face is stern. He's back to being classic Derek; the alpha wolf above emotion. "Explain."

Bonnie tilts her head to one side, "Have they done an autopsy yet?"

"I don't know."

"If they haven't, we have a chance," explains Bonnie. "We're already going to have to do some sort of healing spell or a reconstruction spell to repair the damage done to his body." Her mind wonders as she considers the work and power that will go into such a spell, "We're lucky it's Halloween. Resurrection spells are easier to perform on Halloween. But if they haven't already performed an autopsy, you have to stop them from doing so!"

Derek quickly pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket and looks at the screen, thirty-four missed calls and a hundred texts. He calls Scott who answers immediately. Derek speaks before Scott has a chance to say anything, "Scott, listen to me. Have they performed an autopsy on Stiles?"

"What?" stammers Scott. "Derek, where have you been?" His voice is still full of emotion.

"Scott," Derek shouts, "This is important. Have they done an autopsy on Stiles?"

The phone is quiet for a moment, "No. The medical examiner was killed too. They are bringing in a guy from the county." Scott pauses before asking again, "Derek, where are you? What happened?"

Derek sighs, "I'm in Mystic Falls and I'm with a witch. Scott, she says there is a chance we can save Stiles. You can't let them..." he can't finish the statement.

Scott hands off the phone. Deaton speaks, "Derek? What's going on?"

"Deaton, I'm with a witch. We can maybe bring Stiles back," Derek feels a swell of hope building up within him.

Deaton fights back a smile before instructing, "Derek, give the phone to this... witch, please." Derek complies and turns to Tyler, who is now standing at his side.

"Wow, Derek," Tyler begins, "I'm so happy for you." He hugs his friend tightly. Derek returns the hug, happy to share his joy with a friend. He wishes it were Scott or someone who knew Stiles, but Tyler will suffice. Derek is surprised when he notices how much bigger and how solid Tyler has become since they broke up. Their break up was amicable enough, and it actually happened right here in this very restaurant. It was Derek's last night in Mystic Falls and he was attending an open mic night with Tyler. But he couldn't think about any of that now, Stiles had a chance to live again. He'd do anything Bonnie required of him. Tyler also couldn't help but notice Derek's enhanced form. Derek was bigger, and more built than any of the residents in Mystic Falls. If it was possible, he was more attracted to Derek than he was the last time they were together.

Derek claps Tyler on the back but tenses up when he sees that Damon has rejoined the group. Derek's jaw tenses and he balls his fists.

"Relax Abercrombie," Damon huffs, "I couldn't help overhearing the excitement and I am not missing this party!" He fires off a little finger gun and makes a "Pew, pew," sound. He grins mischievously, "I never miss an opportunity to see a Bennett with work her mojo."

Tyler gently rests a hand on Derek's shoulder and silently urges him to stand down. Derek loosens his body language but stays alert. Tyler slides his hand down Derek's shoulder and into Derek's bicep, "If anybody can do this, it's Bonnie," he says confidently. Despite his rekindled interest in his wayward ex, he truly wishes Derek is able to save his new love interest. "I've seen her do some amazing things."

Bonnie hangs up the phone and hands it back to the Mystic Falls tourist, "We have to work fast." Bonnie looks to the bartender, "Matt, can we go somewhere quiet out back?"

Matt examines the group and nervously agrees, "Sure, you can use the stockroom... as long as Damon doesn't clean me out."

Damon grins and almost laughs at Matt's comment, "No promises."

Jeremy leads the group out back to a small space filled with boxes, kegs, and barrels of liquor. The room is lit by two exposed bulbs in the ceiling which cast a harsh light across the uncomfortably small space. Jeremy waits until everyone is inside before closing the door behind them. He looks to Bonnie for instruction.

"Normally," she begins slowly, "when someone dies, it's difficult to put their spirit back into a body. The longer they are deceased," she looks sympathetically at Derek, "the more their spirit dissolves into the ether. They cross over to the other side and whatever psychic energy that they were made of is lost." She points to a barrel and motions for Derek to sit. "Fortunately for us, none of that has happened to Stiles. His spirit, or soul, is totally intact inside you." Bonnie sits on another barrel opposite Derek and takes him by the hand, "But we're not out of the woods yet. Two problems; Stiles is technically in limbo and may want to cross over. Also, his body is badly... it's going to be difficult to put the pieces back together well enough to sustain a resurrection."

"How do we find out if he wants to cross over or return?" asks Jeremy in a deep and very masculin voice.

"Derek is going to ask him," answers Bonnie with a sly grin.

Derek's eyes widen.

"He's in your mind. I just need to get the two of you face to face," Bonnie squeezes Derek's hand, "If you're ready to see him again." When Derek nods, Bonnie lets go of his hand. "This is going to be the easiest spell I cast all day," she glances at Jeremy for reassurance, "Simple sleeping spell. You will be under for an hour. Talk to Stiles. Explain as best you can and ask him what he wants. Whatever decision he makes, I'll help with. But let him know there is a risk with resurrection. And again," her face falls as the serious nature surfaces, "We don't have a lot of time. After midnight, it's going to be increasingly difficult to bring your boy back."

Derek scrutinizes Damon, "And I'm just leaving you all here with Captain Personality here?"

Jeremy and Tyler exchange looks, "We can handle Damon for an hour," Tyler states. "He's not so bad," adds Jeremy.

"Okay then," Derek relaxes, "Let's do it."

Bonnie whispers something in French and the room gets blurry. Derek hears her speak again in another language but her voice is distant and distorted. Derek blinks hard, trying to see clearly but discerns that the Mystic Falls gang have disappeared. He jets to his feet. The barrel where Bonnie was sitting is now unoccupied. The door is still shut but the boys are no longer standing over his shoulder. Before Derek has a chance to panic, he hears music coming from the other side of the door. He opens the door and peeks out at the restaurant.

Everything is different. It's as it was years ago when he and Tyler broke up. Open mic night. The main lights are off and strings of white lights are hung in zig zags across the open air. The place is packed. A handsome guy sits on a stool on the make-shift stage playing Hey Jude by The Beatles. Derek understands now that he is in his own head. The spell worked. He walks into the restaurant and spots himself sitting in the far corner with Tyler. "Weird," he says out loud.

"What's weird?" a girl laughs while checking out the handsome alpha.

Derek is puzzled, "You heard that?"

"You said it right at me," the girl laughs. She gets up from her table and walks past Derek to the restroom.

"Good to know," he groans to himself while scanning the perimeter for Stiles. He sits at a table close to the stage and waits. He watches the room, figuring Stiles will appear momentarily. Like clockwork, the Grill door opens and a bewildered Stiles walks in. Derek stands and opens his mouth to speak but can't find the right words. His heart skips. His face flushes.

Stiles looks across the room until he sees the familiar face of Derek. He props his arms up and does an exaggerated double take, "Derek!" he shouts, "Where are we?" Before Derek even answers, Stiles bolts across the business to join him at the table. "Are you ok man? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Derek falls into his seat, "Stiles... what's the last thing you remember?"

Stiles slowly sits down at the table and leans back, "I'm not sure." He reflects, "I was in the hospital... Ms McCall was in danger." He shakes as a wave of fear washes over him.

Derek reaches over the table and places his own massive hand over Stiles', "She's safe. You actually saved her."

Stiles looks at Derek with puffy eyes, "I saved her?"

"Yeah," Derek can actually feel Stiles' hand and is relieved at the realism of this experience. "You don't remember speaking to me after that?"

Stiles shakes his head and give a look of confusion. "No. When did we see each other?"

"He doesn't remember," Derek thinks to himself. He has an unfair advantage over Stiles. Derek knows how they feel about each other, but Stiles thinks they are still platonic semi-friends connected only through their association with Scott and the pack. "Listen, I have to say something... I have been struggling to say this for a while."

Stiles is distracted by Derek's touch. His hand is very warm, and surprisingly soft. Usually when Derek touches him, it's a shove, a hit, or a firm hold accompanied by a threat. He's not even listening to Derek's words anymore.

"Can I get you guys a drink?" a woman asks. Derek and Stiles look up at her and Derek instinctively retracts his hand from Stiles. "I'll need to see IDs if you want to order anything off the grown up menu." She winks playfully at Stiles who blushes in return.

"I'll have a Coke," smiles Stiles.

Derek winces at the distraction, "Me too." He watches the waitress walk away and then looks back at Stiles. Stiles has already moved on. He's smiling and looking around at the restaurant. He soaks in the romantic atmosphere. Derek appreciates it too. The musician is good, the lights are dim, and he's sitting alone with Stiles. There's no chance that Peter or Gerard are going to burst in the door. Scott's not going to call with an emergency. It's just them. Derek smiles as he sees the white lights reflected in Stiles' wide eyes.

Finally Stiles looks back at Derek. He finds himself awestruck by Derek's handsomeness. He doesn't understand where he is or why Derek is being so chill but he's happy. That's how he knows the other shoe is about to drop. He folds his hands and leans forward, "Ok, so what's going on? Where are we?"

"Mystic Falls," Derek replies softly as if that's a proper answer.

"Wait. That's on the other side of the country. How the hell did we get here?" he looks around wildly.

Derek pushes his brows together, "You got hurt."

Stiles stiffens and focuses on Derek, "What do you mean?"

"First, I just want to stress that I am here for you, no matter what," Derek's words and sincerity causes the hair on the back on Stiles' neck to stand up. "You got hurt pretty bad. I thought I lost you and I couldn't bare it. I was a coward and I left Beacon Hills." He pushes his hand across the table again but stops just shy of touching Stiles, "I don't ever want to lose you again."

Stiles fights back tears with everything in him, but he's never had anyone talk to him like this, let alone someone he was madly in love with. He's lost for words. He inches his hand closer to Derek's but also stops short.

Derek continues, "I want you to stay. But that's not my decision to make."

Stiles pushes his hair back and hesitates. He feels there is too much information being thrown at him. "Derek, I'm not going anywhere. What are you talking about?"

The waitress returns and plops the two sodas on the table. "Do you guys need menus or are you just here to play?"

"Play!" Stiles jumps, wrongly thinking that she is making some sort of innuendo about him and Derek.

She grins and points at the stage, "Open mic night, guy. I assumed that's why you and your handsome date are sitting so close to the stage?"

Stiles' jaw drops and he looks to Derek, half scared that Derek is going to punish him for this somehow. He's surprised to see Derek blushing and smiling, "I don't play for crowds," he mutters, not bothering to comment on the handsome date jab.

When the waitress leaves, Derek prods, "You don't play for crowds? You actually do play though?"

Stiles shrugs restlessly, "A little. My mom used to play guitar when I was little. When she passed away, I kept the guitar and I sort of taught myself..."

Derek is fascinated, "Really? I never knew that." He takes a sip of Coke and glances to the guy on stage as he finishes up and thanks the audience. A girl walks up to the stage and sits at a keyboard. "I'd really like to hear you play sometime," he says to Stiles.

Stiles lifts his glass and carefully clinks it to Derek's. "I'm still not sure I understand what's happening."

Sighing, Derek tries to explain as delicately as he can, "Your attacker... killed you... but you're not exactly dead. You bonded to me. And I have a witch working on a spell to bring you back." He waits, expecting Stiles to have a bigger reaction. He's always been such a hyperactive spaz that Derek is afraid Stiles might break at the information. But when he doesn't react, Derek actually grows more concerned, "Are you okay?"

"Bonded to you?" asks Stiles.

"Your soul. We're inside my head right now."

Stiles nods, "Uh huh. And you have a witch?"

Derek risks the rejection and finally pushes his hand far enough that his fingers brush over Stiles', "She's a friend of a friend. She's the one making it possible for me to be here with you."

Stiles looks down at Derek's fingers as they trace his own, "Is there something else you want to tell me?" The muscles in his neck tense as he waits for Derek's answer.

"First, I need to know what you want. Bonnie can bring you back or she can help you cross over."

Stiles considers it. He has longed to see his mother again for 8 years. But he's not ready to say good bye to Derek or the pack either. "What do you want me to do?" he asks Derek thoughtfully.

"I want you to stay," Derek replies in a low voice. He chokes up. Derek has never felt so raw or exposed. He is on pins and needles waiting for an answer.

Stiles smiles warmly, "If you're asking, of course I'll stay." His smile gets even bigger when he sees Derek tear up, "Why have you always pushed me away?"

Derek laughs awkwardly, "Because I'm an idiot. I'm sorry Stiles, I truly am."

Stiles turns his hand over and holds Derek's, "It's ok. I think I understand. I think in my own sarcastic way, I did the same."

Derek locks eyes with Stiles and puts on a serious tone, "You are the most sarcastic spaz I have ever met." He smiles.

The waitress returns, "There's an opening if one of you wants to perform. Elena's set is almost over. Can I tempt one of you love birds to play?"

Stiles bites his lower lip, "We're in your head? None of this is real?" he asks Derek.

Derek nods.

"I'll play. Just one song though. I'm a noob." Stiles rolls his shoulders and prepares for the possibly catastrophic decision he just made.

"Really?" Derek asks.

Stiles stands and gets ready to walk up to the stage, "If we're in your head, I know you can't record this on your phone and none of these people are real. False confidence." He takes the two steps up to the stage and briefly shakes hands with the pretty brunette as she steps down. Stiles picks up an acoustic guitar and sits on a stool with his goofy smile stretched wide, "This is for a good friend who I know always has my back," he says into the microphone, "It's a song by Kris Allen... um, it reminds me of my mom..." He adjusts a chord and strums to test the sound, "Ok... so here goes nothing..."

Derek sees Stiles in a new light. He's always had a thing for a guy playing guitar and the guitar seems to give Stiles a new sense of confidence. Derek listens contently as Stiles strums away and sings a song about a woman with a red guitar and how it changed his life. It's a beautiful song with a lot of soul. In many ways, Stiles has decided to totally expose himself. Derek is impressed not just by how well Stiles can play but his singing voice as well. The song goes on for about four minutes and Stiles actually gets really into it. When he finishes, he speaks into the microphone again, possibly forgetting the audience isn't really there, "So, yeah, that was Red Guitar by Kris Allen. I hope you enjoyed it."

Dereks stands and applauds which only serves to make Stiles blush even redder. Derek watches as Stiles accidentally drops the guitar and trip over a cord. Stiles literally falls off the stage and into Derek's arms. "That was smooth..." teases Derek. He looks affectionately into Stiles eyes for a monent before deciding to take the risk. He slowly moves his mouth closer until his lips hover just over Stiles'. He can feel Stiles' warm breath on his lips which sends a sensation down his spine and both arms. Derek hesitates too long and Stiles moves closer until their lips press. Derek secures his arm behind Stiles' back and dips him a little lower.

Stiles hooks one arm up over Derek's shoulders and rests his other hand on Derek's rock hard bicep. He feels butterflies in his stomach. When Derek finally stands upright again and releases his hold on Stiles, they both open their eyes to find they are alone in the restaurant. "That was some kiss," whispers Stiles. His lips still burn and he wants Derek to kiss him again.

Derek realizes that the hour must be nearly passed. He keeps one hand on Stiles, "So just to confirm, you want us to bring you back?"

Stiles exclaims, "As long as you don't bring me back as some brain sucking zombie."

"Don't be ridiculous," Derek deadpans, "There is no such thing as zombies."

Theres a flash of light and Derek is awakened to again find himself in the liquor storageroom alone. He stands up and presses his ear to the door. He can hear people wimpering and an authoritative voice speaking with a strong accent. Before he has a chance to move, he hears a neck crack and a body hit the floor. Dereks bursts out of the storageroom to find a dead patron, an unconscious Jeremy, and a visibly terrified Matt. "What happened?"

Matt points to the door, "It was Stefan! He was here with Klaus and they took Bonnie and Tyler!"

Derek has no idea who they are, but they are going to pay.


	5. Heal

Deaton hung up the phone and handed it back to Scott. His expression was shock. Scott and Isaac awaited explanation. The three men stood huddled together in the dimly lit veterinarian clinic. Deaton took a deep breath and looked down at the stainless steel table for a long moment before locking eyes with Scott, "It's a long shot," he finally breaks the silence, "but Derek is with a witch who thinks she can resurrect Stiles."

Scott instantaneously breaks into tears. Isaac wraps one arm around Scott and rests his narrow face in Scott's hair. Isaac looks to Deaton with concern, "How much of a long shot?"

Deaton strokes the little patch of hair on his chin and considers it carefully, "I don't know this particular witch, but I am familiar with her family's reputation. Bennett witches are very powerful. I have little doubt she will be able to put Stiles' soul back into his body," he pauses, shakes his head, and cracks the knuckles in his left hand, "Unfortunately the most difficult burden falls on us."

Scott wipes his eyes, "Whatever it takes! I'll do anything to save him!"

"Our responsibility will be restoring Stiles' body..." Deaton mutters, "The incantation can be performed by me and an assistant, but the physical toll of the spell will fall on the both of you. Your wolf healing factor will be accelerated and loaned to Stiles." He reaches out and pats Scott on the arm, "It will wear on you. You'll be totally defenseless for some time after the spell is done. And I'm afraid that there is no guarantee it will work."

"I have to try!" Scott snaps, "I have to try! Stiles has always been there for me! I have to do this for him!" He is still fighting back his emotion but has to lean on Isaac for support.

"I will too," Isaac offers," he lowers his arm and rubs circles on Scott's back.

Deaton forces a smile, "We'll need both your power and probably more. Isaac, can you get Erica and Boyd to join us?"

"I think so. When are we doing this?"

"The sooner the better," stresses Deaton, "In fact, we should head back to the hospital and secure Stiles before the medical examiner arrives."

Scott stands upright, finding his inner strength. He looks up at Isaac and says, "Let's move!" As they move towards the exit, they hear Deaton add, "I'll contact Lydia and gather the appropriate ingredients. Act with haste!"

Together, the wolves dash to Melissa's car which is on loan to Scott for the day. Isaac pulls out his phone to call Boyd as Scott pulls out the car keys. "Do you think we should call the sheriff?" asks Isaac. Scott pauses as he reflects on the question. "I think he should know what we are going to try to do," he adds.

"We should get my mom too," Scott nods, "She can help us get into the morgue and maybe help us not get caught." Scott opens the door and taps the roof of the car, "Get in."

As unaware as both men are of the secret attraction between Stiles and Derek; Scott is equally unaware of the love Isaac holds for him. Scott holds Isaac in high regard but feels only platonic love for the guy. Scott's heart still belongs to Allison and Isaac knows this. Still, Isaac would lay his life down for Scott without hesitation. Isaac smiles at Scott and permits himself a moment to just stare while Scott focuses on the road.

 

Just over an hour after Deaton hung up the phone, he finds himself standing in a dark, cold, and overpopulated morgue. Everyone looks uncomfortable; not the least of which is Sheriff Noah Stilinski. Melissa McCall keeps pacing back and forth while nervously rubbing her fingers into her forehead. Stiles' body in laid out on a table in the center of the room and draped in a white sheet. Deaton carefully pulls the sheet up to expose Stiles feet and legs. Then, just as carefully, Deaton pulls the sheet away to expose the arms. He keeps the most damaged parts of Stiles covered up. "Alright, if everyone is ready..." Deaton clears his throat, "This is not going to be an easy task. And whether it works or not, the drain on the pack will be great."

Erica and Boyd exchange vague expressions. Isaac pats Scott on the back.

"Are they in danger by doing this?" questions Melissa.

Deaton twists his lower lip in an expression of puzzlement. "I honestly don't know. If anybody thinks that they or someone else is in danger, I'll stop the spell immediately."

Noah sniffs, "Yeah. Stiles... Stiles wouldn't want any of you hurt..."

Melissa and Lydia both move closer to the sheriff and place hands on him in support.

"Alright then," repeats Deaton, "Let's begin. This is going to take some time and we need to be ready when Bonnie transfers the spirit back to the body." He opens a spell book and hands it to Lydia, "I just need you to read this verse here," he moves his finger down the page, "and this verse here as well." He motions to the wolfpack who all place their hands on Stiles' cold limbs. Erica and Boyd hold Stiles by the legs. Scott and Isaac stand on opposite sides of the table and hold Stiles' arms. Isaac looks at Scott as Deaton begins the encantation, but Scott just looks down at the white sheet covering his best friend.

The wolves can almost immediately feel the affects of the spell. It begins with their hands feeling hot. Soon, a pit forms in all four of their stomachs. Boyd gives a worried look to Erica. Waves of heat washes over them. Isaac begins to sweat. Through all of this, the wolves hear the worst possible thing they could hear; upstairs, Peter Hale has just entered the hospital with a low and gutteral growl. Scott's eyes bulge. The teen wolf keeps his hands secured on his friend's arm and groans, "Peter is here!"

Sheriff Stilinski unholsters his service pistol and takes a ready stance at the door.

Deaton continues the spell but shows his concern.

Melissa looks around the morgue and grabs a metal bar that rests against the wall. She shoves the bar into the door handles of the entry.

Sweat beads down Isaac's face. Exhaustion begins taking its toll on the pack. Boyd sways and struggles to stay upright.

"Are they alright? They don't look good," Noah whispers to Deaton who is still chanting an encantation. Noah keeps the pistol arimed at the door.

Melissa frantically moves to the back of the morgue and searches for a weapon to defend herself with should Peter find his way down to the morgue. She looks to her son, who would normally shift into hero mode right about now. But Scott is physically drained and Melissa knows it. She might not just have to defend herself against the resident big bad; she may have to defend her son too.

Erica can hear Peter's footsteps one floor up as he makes his way to the elevator. "He's coming. He knows we're here," she says as a phantom pain descends over the side of her head.

The other wolves feel the same pain. They start experiencing the pain Stiles felt when he died. It's excruciating. Scott grints his teeth together. As bad as the physical pain is for Scott, the pain of knowing what his best friend felt at the time of his death is even worse. "Please, please, somebody tell me this is working," groans Boyd as his knees go weak.

Lydia nods at the wolf. She can feel the spell working. She can feel something deeply supernatural boiling up within her. She's connected to Stiles. She feels his presence. She is connected to the pack. She hears their thoughts. "Stay strong," she whispers to them telepathically. She isn't sure if they can hear her, but she believes that she can hear their thoughts, "Just a little longer," she whispers.

Noah's finger tightens on the trigger and his knuckle turns white. He eyes the entrance but can see his boy's corpse from the corner of his eye. His mind is spinning with everything that is happening. He is in a room full of werewolves, about to be attacked by a recently resurrected werewolf, while two other people try to resurrect his son. He removes his left hand from beneath the gun and squeezes the radio pinned to his uniform. "This is Sheriff Stilinski. I'm going to need back up at the hospital, downstairs. In the morgue. Bring the biggest guns you have."

The sound of static screeches over the radio before a man's voice responds calmly, "Sheriff, this is Chris Argent. I'm on site. What's happening?"

Noah grimaces, "This is a police frequency..." he is cut off by Chris.

"You can chastize me later, Sheriff. What's happening?"

The sheriff decides to accept the aid, "Peter Hale is here and we believe he is looking for trouble."

A quick burst of radio static screams in Noah's ear before Chris asks, "Do you know if he's alone? Is he with the pack?"

"No, the pack is with me," he stops himself, unsyre how much to disclose.

"We're on our way," a woman's voice assures them before the radio falls silent.

"Allison?" Scott speaks softly through the haze. His ears are ringing and his legs are jelly. He doesn't know how much longer he can last. He finally looks across the table to Isaac with a sad expression. Isaac returns Scott's gaze with a wink.

The door trembles. "Scott!" barks Peter, "Scott McCall! Open the door!" The door trembles again and the metal bar bends slightly. "Erica! Listen to me! I know what you are trying to do and I'm warning you!" His voice is deep and commanding. Erica actually looks like she might do as she is told by the powerful former alpha. "Open. The. Door." He pushes the door as far as the bar will allow. He peers in with one, malevolent, hate-filled eye.

"Back away from the door!" hollers the sheriff as he steps forward, gun raised.

Peter grins and kicks the door. The bar flies loose and the double swinging doors come off their hinges! Noah immediately shoots the invader three times in the chest with hot led bullets. Peter is hurt, but far from stopped. He darts across the morgue in a flash and knocks the gun from Noah's hands! He punches the man hard in the stomach and sends him sailing into a far wall. He whips around to see the spell happening. He smirks at a weakened Erica, "You should have listened to me." Peter is a blur as he moves to Erica and grabs her by the face. He twists her around hard and sinks his teeth into her tender neck. She screams in agony as she succumbs to the pain.

As Erica's physical connection to Stiles is broken, so is her connection to the spell. The remaining wolves feel the extra weight of the spell as Erica is taken. They are powerless to do anything. Even at their peak, arguably none of them are a match for Peter in a fight. Boyd opens his mouth to speak but Peter swats him away like a fly. Then Peter sets his sights on the prize; Scott McCall. He bares his glistening teeth as he slowly moves closer to his intended target. "Stay away from him!" screams a terrified Isaac. Scott looks curiously at Isaac.

A flash of light blinds everyone inside. Arrows and bullets fly about the room in a flurry of war. Allison's voice speaks calmly, "Leave Scott. Take the rest." Men armed with guns and batons charge the room. Allison steps up to the table where Stiles still lay dead. She looks down at Scott who is now on his knees and clinging to Stiles' hand. "What were you doing?"

Scott can't answer. He's too weak. Too confused.

Lydia cries out, "Allison! What are you doing? Where are you taking them?"

Allison coldly scoffs, "Stay out of this, Lydia. This doesn't concern you."

Melissa finally rushes her son and wraps her arms around him.

Chris walks up behind his daughter and asks, "Where is Derek Hale?"

Deaton bites his tongue. He must stay a neutral party.

"I asked a question," urges Chris, "Where is Derek Hale?"

"He... he's not here..." stammers Scott.

Allison shrugs, "Where is he?"

"He left... town..." Scott can't breathe. He feels like he is having an asthma attack. "What are you doing to Isaac? Erica and Boyd?"

Chris claps his daughter on the shoulder and turns to leave. Allison doesn't answer Scott's question and she leaves with her father. It's all over before anybody can fully understand what just happened.

Noah drags himself to his feet. He looks to his son and then to Deaton. His voice is shaky with desperation, "Was it enough? Is my son healed?"

Deaton pulls the sheet away from Stiles' face. The boy looks strangely healthy for someone who has been dead for nearly 24 hours. Deaton leans closer and examines the body. "I think more could have been done. But I believe we have done enough for Bonnie to complete her half of the spell."

Scott grips his mother's arm and lifts himself up. He looks at Stiles on the table and shakes. He's optimistically overjoyed at the prospect that they may be able to bring back Stiles he can't help but feel sick at what might now be happening to Isaac. But for now, Stiles' body is healed.


End file.
